See
by Master of Shiawase Punch
Summary: The members of the Strawhat Crew have all gone on their own paths after finding One Piece. Now, three years later, the captain arranges a reunion, and they still have a lesson to learn from the famous treasure. Extremely vague stupid summary. R&R please.
1. CHAPTER 1: Three Years Dead

I thought of this story plot while listening to "Cool" by Gwen Stefani.

In this rummage of words and choppy English, I have taken the liberty of conveniently removing select members of the Mugiwara Kaizoku (a.k.a Strawhat Pirates)...you'll find out who select members are by their absence. Is this because I hate them? Yes.

And that was a bold blatant yes, by the way.

Anyway, this story has more to offer than what the sappy little summary block did. Bloody little confined space... Mind you, it's rated M because there is some "mature" content in here. However, it is not mature in regards to the misguided nature of making your hormones fly and getting you wanting to masturbate or something stupid like that. That is never my purpose. I disagree with those who would wish to read such content and their search for it. It's an unfortunate circumstance to be in, and must admit it is through pure devilish existance that I am tempted to read similar stories. And that is not mature, really. It's an oxymoron to label something with that content as "Mature", because it is highly immature to depend on fantasy writing and pictures to get sexual stimulation. Save it for one REAL person in marriage, you idiots. It is labeled mature for those who realize that problems and mistakes happen, and sometimes good comes out of it. People are people, not God. We should accept the fact that not all people are as perfect as I am. I mean, as YOU all are...

So anyway...where was I...yes. Read and review please, even if you hate reviewing. Because I want your words of crazed typing. Hate it? Say so, but coherently state why (and you can ask questions...). Love it? Yey! I'm glad to make you happy.

Also remember if you're confused, please ask me. I may be able to elaborate or write the confusing portion better...plus, I'm only a wench in general. When people ask me specifics, I don't sound so much like a female dog. :)

There will be a coupled sort...nearing the end. No gays. I hold to the basic animal fact that males have penises and females have vaginas for a reason despite my crazed brain activity. So, no yaoi/yuri/shonen-ai/shojo-ai.

I'll write a sequel. Enjoy this bunk for now.

Buxtehude's protege,

---Ken

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**SEE**

**CHAPTER 1: "THREE YEARS DEAD"**

The letter could have given worse news, but it still didn't lessen any stress that Nami, former navigator of the Straw Hat Pirate Crew, had been experiencing. She still winced at the pain throbbing on the side of her index finger; when would she learn to open envelopes with the letter opener? A thin trace of red blood lined the ripped envelope paper where she had recklessly ran her finger along it, lazily trying to just get the letter out, that was the purpose. But no, even envelopes defeated her on a daily basis.

In bold sloppy handwriting, the message contained read:

Nami,

I wrote letters to everyone else on the crew too! I want us all to see each other again, a reunion. Like old times. Just a small party. I thought that Roguetown would be great. I will be there June 30th at noon, and maybe we can stay the night there and party! I hope to see you there!

---Luffy

"On the crew". It had been years, yet he still referred to everyone collectively as the crew, of old. She sighed and rolled her eyes at his refusal to accept that their seafaring days were over (he had written her on two other occasions to just 'check up' on her). They had 'found' One Piece: yes, that most elusive of all treasures. Turned out to be a cruel joke after all. Nami had the feeling they were merely following the lead of a rumor all along, but Luffy wouldn't hear it. He wouldn't believe the letter in the treasure chest either, perched atop a small knoll above the would-be grave of Gold Roger, had he not been captured and executed in Roguetown; it was the last island they would sail to on the stretch of the Grand Line. He was probably laughing in his cold sleep:

"Not all that glitters is gold, so they say; this _one piece _of advice goes a long way."

Disgusting.

Luffy stared at the yellowed crumbling letter for an eternity before stuffing it back into the empty wooden chest, its rusty hinges disintegrating as they closed the lid shut for one last time. It took him two more weeks of sailing to fully appreciate the letter's message (with much explaining, mostly from the navigator), after which it was soon decided that everyone still had dreams to carry out. Luffy had nothing more to journey toward, and the other crew members had nothing else to cling to. They separated. Nothing glittered for them anymore.

Nami silently packed up her things after deciding her course, not bothering to talk with anyone the whole day. Even Sanji denied eye contact with her. He was being abnormally loud about collecting his kitchen tools from the galley, storing them in padded boxes and cases; anytime anyone asked for food, he responded icily with a solid "NOT PREPARING IT". Usopp packed his odds and ends, Chopper replaced his small doctor's case with medicine bottles and various tools. Zolo slept on the deck alongside the only three items he owned. And Luffy sulked in the crow's nest. It was in Roguetown that they disbanded, continuing to deny their future as independents. Nami felt strangely calm and content with herself, as she faced the inner circle they all made on one of the wide boating docks, ocean happily lapping at the pier's posts, boats and ships bobbing on the waves, the sun burning any exposed skin. It felt like they had all just escaped this city on a fateful stormy day, chased by the Navy, heading out towards the Grand Line. But time pressed onward.

Luffy bid them all good luck; everyone smiled generally, looking about the circle casually, hoisting their packs and maneuvering their luggage. No one cried. It was unnerving but fortunate at the same time, the fact no one seemed upset, even after all they had been through together. Zolo was the first to turn away, his swords hanging heavily from his hip. Chopper and Usopp headed towards two boats tied to an adjacent pier, and Luffy smiled still, nervously, at his former cartographer and chef. Sanji glanced briefly at Nami, who tried to smile at him, an attempt to make herself feel like the human she was (the robotic complacency had frightened her by now). But he turned around quickly and walked toward the center of the busy town, not bothering at a "good bye". She wanted to feel something, some effect from that, but didn't. She knew somewhere in the back of her head that she should have felt hurt, or abandoned, or worthless, regardless of the fact she refused to like him anymore than an overly amorous chef could be liked. But she stood there, dark eyes wide, satisfied with boring holes in the back of his white T-shirt as she stared. She told Luffy good bye, and where she was going: he was the only person she told. She'd be in Coco Village for a while, if he had to contact her. She didn't know why she told him; something pressed her to let someone know her whereabouts.

Thus, the letter now sitting on her desk, sun rays letting her see the dust in the tangerine air, the open window letting in an ocean breeze as well as the occasional fly. After three years, Luffy contacted her for the purpose of reunion. She had the opportunity to see everyone in the crew again. If they went. What had they done with themselves, without the rest of them, in three years' time? What would she tell them that _she_ had done? She felt unaccomplished, but happy with her yearly harvest, her small produce business that she took to various local islands. She lived in the same house Belle-Mere raised Nojiko and her in, nothing much changed. She looked the same, she felt the same. There just wasn't a "Crew" involved.

A small folded paper with a messy scrawl reply was placed in the mailbox as Nami wondered if she had done the right thing. Again.

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R&R! Arigatooooooooooooooooo!


	2. CHAPTER 2:

This chapter is disgusting, whether you like smut or not. Cheating on wives irks me. Although I feel it needs to be in here. I defend myself by saying I write naturalism! Bleh.

I do not support people searching for smutty content neither do I support the writing of it merely for sexual gratification. This chapter or story does not reflect any sort of support for either, regardless of what you think.

The end.

Until the world ends,

---Ken

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Sollara was the dark and enchanting third wife of a successful restaurant owner. She brought no children into the marriage, as well as her husband hadn't, and got none out of it either. Not that she desired any. All she desired was served during long sultry nights or in tight thick wads of cash. That was what she received, and nothing more. It had been only seven months since her wedding day, and she already was not the one waking up in her wedding bed next to her husband.

Sanji stretched, his already long limbs lengthening to their limits, his naked skin warm against the cool cotton sheets of the large bed. He didn't have to scoot far before locating the other possessor of warm exposed skin, her curled figure dark in the lightless room. The chef cracked his toes and fingers as he pulled himself closer, one long leg straddling the girl's hip, his lustful hands fingering her fake 'fully-developed' breasts. He purred sultrily into her ear as she woke up, giggling weakly.

"But it's so _early_...again?"

Sanji moved his thin hair from in front of his right eye, creating the trademark look of leaving half his face in shadow of his messy haircut. "Good things come to those who wait; it's been five hours."

"You on a schedule or something?" The girl lay her back flat against the mattress, Sanji climbing on top of her.

"Just my routine, Mercella, and yours." He instinctively traveled from mouth to neck, his hot kisses moving down until he lost himself in her cleavage, making her moan.

"Oh God, Sanji, you're too much," she whined, her hands kneading his scalp. He licked his lips and stared at her deviously, his bent knees straddling her torso.

"Not yet too much for you, my dear. I want to hear you scream for me to stop. Just past that is too much. I'll stop then. Addictions need satisfaction." He continued with messy kisses, most not even making it to her open mouth, his hands wandering to every part of her body, as she accepted his gift of self. A gift given and regiven to as many women who would take it, receive it with open arms---and legs. But giving in itself warranted no reward; it never did. Sanji only gave to receive what he had been assuming he needed, to get satisfied. And it was getting more difficult and boring to satisfy himself with every new selection he took to the cotton sheets with him.

He continued anyway, lost. A man without direction.

"Sanji, I really must be going, I have to catch my train by seven." The girl ground her hips against his as she gave him one last kiss, Sanji trying to hold her down. He gave in finally, letting her catch her breath, then slide off the bed, starting to pull her clothes on. She shivered as the cold material---they had been on hard tile floor all night---embraced her warm, still tense, skin. She looked disheveled still, but made no motion towards a mirror. She was eager to move on. "I'll visit, and I promise to recommend---your restaurant of course." She winked and blew him a kiss. The traditional, cliche, woman's bidding of farewell. It was almost a scene out of a drama movie: dim room, sun starting to peer around the outline of the window curtains, one of her hands on the door's handle, the other raised in nonchalant 'goodbye'. Sanji smiled, uttering a low 'See ya', as Mercella pulled her purse up higher onto her shoulder, back turned to him, her curved frame slipping through the door. It closed with a soft click, leaving Sanji alone in the dusk-trapped room, with a dusk-trapped mind.

His mind was always blank as midnight the morning after.


	3. CHAPTER 3:

It's freaking Zolo time. I'll just tell you now that you can kiss my lily-white gluteus maximus if you think of telling me "IT'S ZORO NOT ZOLO GET IT RIGHT N00B :( :( :("

I. USE. ZOLO. BECAUSE. I. LIKE. IT. MORE. I refuse to do it just because others prefer it, or it's right. Whatever. I don't care. Zolo flows well with me and my tongue, so I say it. If Oda wants to come and splice my veins in anger, I'll let him. Because he's Oda after all. But then I'll challenge him to a dice gamble. And win.

Plus, the Japanese sound for "R" is like an R/L blend…it's very odd. I can't even get it right. It doesn't sound like an English "R" sound, when properly said. So who cares. Bleh.

Also, if you don't know already, I make up my own city/geography for this One Piece world.

Cooking for planets,

---Ken

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**CHAPTER 3: "AND WE FOUND YOU."**

"Listen, you start a fight, I'll finish it, there's really no room for gray in that thinking."

The thick shoulders of a man hunched briefly over a balcony railing as he stared down at another who had attempted to initiate a bar brawl with him. He stood up finally to show off his full height to those around who might think of cleverly pushing him over, just as he had done to his target. Cracking his back, his shoulder blades and tightening muscles threatening to tear through the thin white material of his skin-tight shirt as he flexed, he fingered the hilts of three long and heavy swords attached to his side by a harness and sheathes.

"You're all lucky I didn't have to use these..."

Zolo emerged from the bar into the cacophony of the region of the Elberth Walls, a place well-known for its large surrounding stone walling that served as the defense and protection of those who lived there. Had it not been for a tip off of an old vendor owner on the outskirts of Roguetown, the swordsman would not have ever learned of the place's existence---or its reputation for harboring many well-known criminals. Easy prey for bounty hunters.

He had taken to bounty hunting again for lack of any other lucrative skill. He needed money, and collecting it in exchange for the handing over of lazy thieves or sloppy small-time offenders was simple, if not relaxing. It kept him moving, and returned a reward. Life was good.

Zolo liked Elberth Walls so much that he took up residence there, soaking up North Blue sun while it was available, and allowing North Blue weather to warm his skin, water his grass (the little there was), and cloud over his daily outdoor naps. He paid no rent; he'd drive out the riff-raff for the landlord instead. He bummed food off of local vendors and patio restaurants by the same method. Life was even better.

His mailbox was solid physical evidence of the effects from the wet humid climate of the area, its old metal exterior red-orange from a layer of bumpy rust. Its door crunched on rusty hinges as Zolo opened it, feeling inside for any mail. He didn't know why he continued looking, no one bothered him or with where he currently lived. Perhaps he hoped (but would never admit) that someone would contact him again. But that was the 'extra' in life, more than he needed to survive comfortably. He was fine on his own, without anyone knowing him and his address.

He felt paper under his fingertips.

"Hmm...what in the world could this be?"

He entered his small room of a house, the possessions of Spartan living decorating the residence. Sitting on a low stool, he looked over the front of an envelope. It was addressed to him, almost (Zolo sensed) confidently, with excitement; how he felt this, he didn't know. The writer knew of his whereabouts somehow, they had sought his address out fervently to find out what to write on the envelope in bold black pen. A little too bold. He blinked, shook his head quickly. He had to stop analyzing everything. He opened the envelope.

"Hey Zolo..." he mumbled, reading the first line of the single letter aloud. More bold black print. Any letter, to him, starting out so happy, could not be in his interests. Certainly not his best interests. "...wants to have a reunion. Captain, you idiot..." He frowned, brow furrowed, at his utterance of 'captain'. It had been awhile since he had said it. He'd had a captain? "Heh. That was weird. It's been ages." He smiled, folding the letter and replacing it in the envelope.

He'd left the circle first, the day they docked in Roguetown. He figured someone would cry, make all of them (him especially) feel like they were guilty of something awful for splitting up. He didn't want to leave that way, so he decided to close them all out for the day, leave quickly without a word. No one stopped him. He almost wanted someone to. Nami, to try and stall him, start crying. He liked her better when she cried. His first reaction was disgust; it annoyed him. But he liked feeling that he had someone to protect, to have someone to look to him in emergency. He'd never tell anyone he thought she looked most beautiful when defeated and helpless; maybe it was because she hated that part of herself during crisis, and she tried the most hard to not let it show, and then failed. The part of her no one got to see. But he had seen it, and it fuzzed his insides. Maybe that was why he was disgusted with her. He didn't like those feelings. He'd hoped that Sanji would definitely throw in a jib, just to make him angry enough to try to slaughter him one more time. He hadn't actually tried to kill Sanji in the past; he had no reason to. But he still drove him insane. He'd hoped for that insult.

But no one stopped him that day. So he walked into Roguetown, with no motive, emotionless and penniless, nothing phasing him to look anywhere but forward, the only place time offered to take him. It took him to the place of present. Now, he sat staring at a blank wall, debating whether to reply or just show up for the hell of it.


	4. CHAPTER 4:

Eh, another intro-ish chapter. Enter Le 'Sopp and Le Chopper.

At least I included them. I almost didn't.

Eating your tuna sandwich,

---Ken

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**CHAPTER 4: WHAT WE REFUSE TO ACCEPT**

Usopp returned to his home island with a foreign species never before seen by the inhabitants: Chopper. The human-reindeer doctor was the joy of children and adults alike, even having to escape from his newfound 'fans' as quickly as Usopp had to right after telling the village his lies of old, years ago before embarking on his journey with the beginnings of the Straw Hat Crew. Those were days of adventure and nightly parties, fun and story-telling. He no longer looked for adventure, and no longer told tall tales. He wanted to, and felt saddened that he didn't relish it anymore, as he had.

"Chopper, do you regret actually leaving them, you know, in Roguetown and all?"

"I told you already, Usopp...I think it was for the best, everyone going out and doing their own thing, making their own independent choices. None of us are dependent on anyone now."

He'd said that numerous times the day they left the crew. He had said it equally more that day. Blame the letter.

The former marksman turned construction worker reread Luffy's letter for the tenth time that day. He had just found it in his mailbox, a day late, and wondered at why he hadn't checked his mail in the first place.

"I always check my mail, Chopper, why didn't I yesterday?"

"You were busy, Usopp. You just forgot...that's all."

"I know, but still. That's part of my routine."

"Fate doesn't care."

"Bleh bleh. Well maybe for once _I _don't care. None of that stuff again."

"Are you going to respond?" the little reindeer asked, staring up at Usopp, who was sitting on a low tree branch, his back against the trunk.

"I haven't decided yet."

"Oh." Chopper rubbed his head. The sun had been strong for weeks now, no rain clouds in sight, and the heat was starting to get to him. "Man, I'm glad I sit indoors for my doctor work. I don't know how you build and keep up on all those houses in this weather. How many houses have you helped build now?"

"I forgot, haven't been keeping tally anymore." He folded the letter and pushed it into one of his large cargo pockets, a few of his knuckles bumping against the head of a hammer. He grimaced as he looked up into the branches of the tree, the light from the sun splashing select leaves, creating a huge green collage above him. He smiled, thinking. "Actually, I have been keeping tally."

"But I thought you just said..."

"I've built over eighty MILLION houses, just today."

"That's impossible! There aren't that many people here! And the island isn't even that big."

"Ah, but you haven't checked on the ants."

"You don't build ant houses..."

"Have you looked to make sure?"

"No, but---"

"IN THE FOREST! Go check! I build a mound for termites too! A whole apartment complex!"

"NO WAY."

"WAY!"

"An apartment complex?!"

"They even owe rent!"

"_RENT_?!"

"It's a true steal: a hundred Berries a week!"

Chopper screamed in gullible delight, jumping up and sprinting towards the forest, Usopp following close behind, laughing, words for a reply letter already filling his mind.


	5. CHAPTER 5: And the Past Haunts

Aw, poor poignant flashback. That's all that's thrilling about this. And maybe the line about the clean laundry up to dry. That's MY favorite part, personally. Shut up.

Quick fact: the name of Sanji's restaurant, _Beauvillier__s_, comes from the last name of Antione Beauvilliers, who in 1782 was the pastry chef of the future king Louis XVIII. He opened one of the most popular restaurants of the time in France. Yey.

I realize the characters are a bit OOC. But this is what I think would happen (well...ONE way I think things could happen...) if the members were all on their own. Whee haw.

Bashing the heads of wise-acre children,

---Ken

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**CHAPTER 5: AND THE PAST HAUNTS**

Sanji took a cold shower immediately following his mistress' exit, not bothering to shave or to comb his hair properly. He couldn't shake off the anxiety he had gotten from reading Luffy's letter the day before. He had woken up early because of it, and had used Mercella again as a tool to try and relieve it. To no avail.

He had tried to rid his mind from all of them, the Straw Hat Crew members, the moment he last glanced at Nami, turned away from her quickly. Wind had blown his blond hair back, his clothes closer to his slender frame, his cigarette ash away as he pushed through grimy commoners in the city, not comparable to those he had learned to hold in high esteem as friends. But they all agreed to move on, attain their own dreams. He wanted to protest, but swallowed his words like soup gone cold. He felt it would be better that way. So he left without a word to any of them, let them all leave by their own willing. Nami wouldn't leave though, stayed put in her little arc of the circle, and he despised her for it. Her lingering presence had pressed him to tell her his final thoughts of the whole separation thing. Would she go with him? Probably not. He wanted to be the last to go, but recognized the stubborn look on her face: he wasn't going to budge. She had forced him to turn his back on her, something he didn't want to do. Why didn't she just _leave_?

He meandered down a steep sidewalk, common in the small town he had chosen to inhabit. Traditional neighborhood houses choked the thin brick street on both sides, stores, vendors, and small restaurants nestled between some of them, their patios sporting several outdoor tables for alfresco dining. His own restaurants were located between some houses, on another street, the main one boasting the largest turnout for any restaurant in the area. It was famous throughout the four seas, but only in the small North Blue town of Joca, gaining its name from the peninsula it sat on, was the original _Beauvilliers_. And it's head chef and owner was at the height of culinary expertise and fame, going straight to the head and bleeding out from the heart in affectionate ways that _still_ failed him.

To that day, in the past three years, he had married three wealthy, supposedly beautiful, women, all once fans of the great _Beauvilliers_, once all eager to entice him enough to make him fall heavily into love, and quickly out of it again with their wily ways. He was commonly known as a womanizer and a flirt, married or not. Tabloids had no qualms about tarnishing his original golden and honest reputation as a "humble sous-chef turned celebrity". Nobody believed that anymore, not even he. As soon as he had decided to settle down for himself, and merely keep up with his business, he met someone new, someone perfect, someone grand enough to keep in the bedroom for a time, keep them longer with marriage papers, then file for divorce all over again. Recipe for happiness, serve cold, enjoy spoiled.

Sanji stepped into a dank alleyway, treading the uneven bricks for a time before coming to an almost hidden doorway on the side of a large brick building. Lines strung between the building and its similar neighboring structure sported last evening's laundry, out to dry, for residents who lived in the upper stories. They hung over his head like banners of protest, the clean laundry trying to defeat the dinginess of the alley, as he fingered through the keys on his key ring. One was slowly fitted into the door lock and turned, allowing access.

The kitchen belched a greeting of Hellish heat and smells of breakfast orders. Typical morning. Sanji wove through the labyrinth of chefs and serving carts, his tall and lank frame easily maneuvering around servers with full plates held high over their heads. It was the dance his hips swung to for the entire duration of the day, clocked in to clocked out. He could have given himself a less dirty and stressful job, but he didn't feel comfortable knowing his chefs were alone and without his presence to direct them as he saw fit. He cooked the same orders they were all given, as if he were but one of his many average cooks.

But today, he had a letter to write.

"That damn bastard, writing me something so...so complicated," Sanji said to himself gruffly, falling heavily into his office's black swivel chair. From a desk drawer he pulled out a notepad with his restaurant's insignia on the top, followed by a pen with the same logo curled around it. He tapped the paper a few times before rolling his eyes. "I don't _want_ to see any of those nimrods again, what's he thinking? That was the point of leaving, to be _away_ from everyone else, not to collect together again. Damn it."

What would he say? He didn't know why he really cared about how to talk with any of his former crew members. He had spent so much time with them, solving problems together, creating memories, that they seemed like they always had been around him, since birth. The family he never had. Now, it was as if he had no recollection of them, and was forced to be part of them, some group of people he felt permanently estranged from. He wouldn't talk much with Luffy, how could he? He'd greet him, ask how he had spent his time, and move on. It would be the same with all of them.

"None of them have probably accomplished anything like I have..." He thought of Zolo actually getting off his lazy ass and doing something productive: he knew he hadn't mentioned becoming the best swordsman anymore, ever since they realized their ship days were at an end. Like that would ever happen. Usopp, maybe. Chopper, eh: what can a reindeer-man do in society? Luffy surviving anything that had nothing to do with fun-loving pirates was almost joke enough to make Sanji laugh.

And thoughts drifted to Nami.

"Shit, I don't even want to think about her. Making me so mad that day, I've never been so angry at a woman before. Wanted to slap the fucking shit off her face. I hated turning my back on her. ... But _da-amn_, what a fine girl." He became silent, his mind's eye doing the talking with visuals. He had never gotten the image out of his head of the orange haired navigator letting her towel fall in the Alabasta palace's baths, and it pleased him to think about it for weeks afterward. He'd never seen a woman exposed like that before, and instantly found her beautiful. However, he had since learned to love more 'favorable' types, going by the philosophy "more to hold, more to love". And he had large hands to satisfy.

A part of him still craved the citric personality of the small woman he once held dear as his "petite orange goddess", he now realized, thinking about her. She had smaller features compared with the women he had associated himself with, and was definitely more feisty, but she made him smile, even now, cloistered in his white walled office, leaning his elbow on the glass surface of the desk, the friction-impervious material of his long-sleeved shirt causing his arm to slide slowly forward. His head rested gently on its side in his open palm, arm still moving. He smiled stupidly into space, daydreaming of her small sporty clothes, her crazed grin while hunting for some expensive treasure. But all he could manage was the smile and the dazed moment. No rush of emotion, no quickened heartbeat, no tight pants. Not like it used to be. He felt guilty almost, as if he had somehow betrayed her, not having the same feelings, leaving her behind. He felt he should have felt something more than a twinge of happy reminiscence. He should have missed her daily, attempted to find her out there, keep in touch. But he didn't. Even as he sat there, he felt nothing.

"She wanted to leave, I gave her what she wanted. She had plans, I respected that, the bitch. She can do as she pleases." He scrawled out a quick reply to his former captain, his anger heightening as he tried to remove the navigator from his mind. His writing became increasingly messy as he finished the letter. "Captain wants a reunion, I'll grant him his stupid wish. And I'll give him a piece of my mind too, as a final parting gift. People want to be asses, I'll play along. I did the day we all separated, without a word." Letter in the envelope, address written. "Let's see what they've done with themselves, and I'll make them see they shouldn't have split up. Independence, my ass, the dumb asses."


	6. CHAPTER 6: Nostalgia

Simple minded baffoons bother me, so Luffy gets a short chapter. Sorry. I refuse to place myself in the head of a Neanderthal for too long, out of fear I may ruin my brain cells. I imagine Luffy being a tad OOC upon feeling sad about his old crew...at least, it's OOC since he's not all spazzy about it...whatever.

Licking pine needles off the Jersey shore,

---Ken

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**CHAPTER 6: NOSTALGIA**

Luffy lay comfortably in a worn hammock hung between two large oak trees. Fusha Village was covered with an excellent array of deciduous and coniferous trees, but out of them all, the ones that dropped acorns were his favorite. Trees with action.

He had everyone's replies tucked into a folder. He had everyone's word: they'd be there, June 30th, Roguetown. A day and night of fun, like old times. He had something to look forward to. Finally.

"One, two, and three acorns." He scratched his head, counting the seeds as they fell from some unknown height of the tree. "One, two, three weeks! Three weeks until we'll all be like a crew again. I hope they missed me like I missed them. I wonder what adventures they've been on!" He smiled, thinking of Zolo being some hero in his town for fighting off bad guys with his swords, Usopp_ trying_ to be a hero in his town, Nami drawing more maps, Chopper making people better, Sanji cooking. He had retreated to his hometown, dumb luck allowing him to find his way there. Various people had helped him along the journey home, granting him kindness, like his crew. It wasn't until he actually came in the sight line of those who recognized him that he realized life wouldn't be the same without his crew. Makino's small pub had grown into a fine well-known establishment, the old Mayor, still snappish, had been reduced to getting around in a wheelchair, he had broken both legs at some point. They both welcomed him with open arms, but it wasn't the welcome that he wanted. He wanted them to stay at his side, assist him in having fun.

But they had lives to live. As his crew members now had.

Luffy frowned and turned in the hammock, his mind rereading the reply letters, even without the papers in front of him.


	7. CHAPTER 7: Static

Roguetown time! Happiness punch in your bladder! Or maybe not...but I like this chapter a bundle. Meeting up again...bleh. But it's not going to be all happy I'm afraid. Wah wah. Read and review, kids.

Endangering the bald eagle again,

---Ken

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**CHAPTER 7: AND YOU'VE REMAINED QUITE STATIC**

Roguetown was an expansive city that had thrived on tourism for some time. Being the birth and death place of Gold D. Roger, many people from around the world came to visit, and perhaps have the luck of Roger rub off on them, twisting fate so that they would perhaps find the One Piece. But with news of the 'finding' of 'One Piece', no one, save history buffs, bothered with this little fact of the bustling city. Town Council and area residents had immediately prepared for the worst case scenario in which their economy would fail. On the contrary, the city found itself a victim of massive commercial and industrial change, brand new stores opening, factories producing. Suburban sprawl had now found roots in Roguetown, and many a traveler knew where to point a finger in the direction of the best shopping and business center around.

Such was the setting of the meeting place planned by Monkey D. Luffy for his former crew.

June 30th arrived like any other day, the solar expanse playing its part in shifting moon and sun, stars retreating, blue sky showing through a melting sunrise. Cumulus clouds dotted the sky, beyond them a 'mackerel sky' showing signs of a charging cold front from the northwest, threatening to swallow them all in one quick stormy sweep. Only Nami could sense the oncoming rain as she walked briskly down a newly-paved crowded Roguetown sidewalk. Her new candy-apple red sandals clicked against the cement. They already were showing obsessive wear: three scuffs to the sides and both were dark on the front tips where her toes almost reached. But she didn't bother with trying to keep her clothes nice for very long anymore. She ended up having to run errands so quickly that she never changed her shoes for separate tasks. They were nice enough still to impress with her matching skirt and white polo, so no harm done. She now carried an orange canvas purse on her shoulder, the keys to her new mode of transportation---her motor boat---jingling with every step she made. Keeping an eye out for any member of the old crew, she also tried to straighten her clothing.

She wouldn't lie to herself: she was nervous.

"Oh, excuse me." There were many people around, and too many in comparison with what Roguetown was in her memories. But she noticed many more stores that had opened since she had last been in the city. "Velaughn? Sutoris? Never seen those before...maybe I can get some time to myself and go pay those places a visit."

"Are you talking to yourself?"

Nami gasped, startled, and stepped backwards into a crate of cheap trinkets, causing the vendor owner to spring up from her metal chair, flustered at the sound that aroused her from her nap.

"Oh goodness, I'm terribly sorry, really, do you---"

"Fine, fine, you're fine, deary, are you hurt---no? Well, then best be on your way, good day!"

Nami looked around, trying to find the person who had spoken so closely to her. Usopp, arms crossed, stood against one of the many stores' brick walls, a smile on his face. He hadn't meant to frighten her, but her reaction was priceless. Chopper stood at his side, hooves over his mouth, giggling.

"That wasn't funny at all, Usopp."

"HAHA! It was worth it---"

"Way to greet someone you haven't seen in years..."

"I really didn't mean to scare you that badly."

"We've been waiting for a familiar face for hours!" the little reindeer said, arms held high. "I'm surprised we caught you in the crowd!"

"Luffy should have been more specific on where to meet..." Nami sighed. "Oh well. It's Luffy, after all."

"Seen anyone else?" The former marksman seemed more at ease, more calm, than how she remembered him on the ship. He would be the first to join in with Luffy's antics. Now, he seemed reserved and collected, content with being relaxed and on the side lines.

"Nope, you two are the first I've seen. I'm glad we met quickly though, this place is mad! There's so many people."

"Blame the urban expansion. It's the best place for shopping now; you can find almost anything here." Usopp held up a bag. "We already had a go at some of the new places."

"SO MANY CANDY STORES!" Chopper screeched, eyes wide. Nami smiled.

"Well, let's see if we can find the rest of them."

The three united walked through half of the city, the semi-circle formation lined with hundreds of stores and thousands of square feet of display windows. Nami had seen her reflection several times enough to know her hair looked fine, but she was beginning to grow irritated at staring at herself whenever she turned her head to the right.

"Definitely not the old Roguetown."

"Nope. That's suburban sprawl for you," Usopp said, shaking his head. "I prefer the humble villages still, personally. The death of them is the death of people's happiness, I think. The people who live here don't seem all too happy. All that's around is business, and sell, sell, sell!"

"Green hair, I saw green hair!" Chopper said, hopping up and down next to Usopp.

"Your head barely comes up to people's knees, how would you have seen Zolo's head in _this_ crowd?!"

Nami smiled briefly before resorting to tip-toe, trying to look over and through the crowd to where the reindeer was pointing.

"I don't see him."

"He must have gone with the crowd, can't go against it here. We tried earlier and I got stampeded---"

"...You did not, Usopp..." Chopper snorted.

"You calling me a liar? Nami, listen to this flea-bitten---Nami?"

Nami pressed through a few people ahead of them and reached forward, her hand partially closing around a thick strong bicep.

"Huh? Hey, you know, a tap on the shoulder would do---" Roronoa Zolo turned his head around to tell off the person who had a hand on his arm, momentarily stared blankly ahead at his sight level, then looked down into the dark eyes of his former navigator. He smiled casually as she grinned radiantly. "Well, what do you know, someone I recognize."

"Let me guess, you've seen this spot before?"

"I swear, about a hundred times. I probably circled the same square yard all the hour I've been here. It's bigger than I remember, and I got lost then." He hadn't changed. Still had a horrible sense of direction. Nami laughed.

"You haven't changed much."

"As you haven't." He lost himself for a second that felt like an eternity, looking her over. Same fashion sense, same simple haircut, same petite frame. She hadn't grown taller, wider, or bigger in any way, just the same old Nami. He felt like she should be pressing him to pay back some loan with interest, because he had just bought a sword or something. Hadn't he? No, that was years ago, back in old Roguetown. Had he paid her back? He thought he had, but wanted to start up the argument about it again, something to rile her up. He wanted to fight all the way back to the ship, where ever it was. He wanted to irritate her enough to make her stomp to her room, then he'd hear something large and heavy slam against the door. He'd smile, get lost in a daydream, find his way out, scoff and laugh at himself for being such an idiot, take a nap. Wake up to a Sanji dinner, eat, insult Nami in some way that he found harmless, have Sanji arrange his funeral, bypass death, repeat daily.

The schedule he learned to hate to love.

"I have Usopp and Chopper with me," Nami said, thankfully not sensing his momentary lapse, pointing back towards the two now waving at the both of them.

"That's four of us."

Collecting the crew again. He felt like he had just left Morgan's Navy Base with Luffy, in a roughed up dinghy, with no navigator, no chef, no anybody except a wishful-would-be pirate captain and himself, the ex-pirate hunter, together making them most odd and ironic pair up that would come to shake some history.


	8. CHAPTER 8: BROWN EYED GIRL

Ooo...what's this chapter about? How about you read it and you'll find out! Bah. That's sick rhyming.

Wasting the clerk's time in electronics,

---Ken

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**CHAPTER 8: BROWN-EYED GIRL**

Luffy stood stock-still in front of Gold Roger's execution platform, arms folded tightly across his chest, eyes staring straight ahead. The dead center of Roguetown. The wooden scaffold a testament to Roguetown's history with pirates, including the greatest one of all time. But men, women, and children alike all walked around the giant monolith without giving it a passing glance. Past was past, and now was the present! The former captain's sight pierced into the crowd, searching out his crew.

"They all said they'd be here. This is the center! Everyone always comes by the center." He thoughtfully rubbed the top of his straw hat, his signature piece of clothing. They would recognize him by that. "I hope I find them soon."

Without warning, Luffy sprang forward, sending an arm stretching into the crowd, knocking bags out of the hands of women, causing children to run into an elongated forearm. Choice curse words, broken merchandise.

All unintentional. Of course.

"Got 'im."

"Bigger, but not lacking, that's a definite." Sanji perused through a large food market before making his way across the cobblestone roads of Roguetown, searching out the dreaded crew. He had purchased five new varieties of citrus fruits he had never seen before and was eating one of his choices as he glanced around at the many people surrounding him. So many faces, all heading in some direction that he was unaware of, all of their lives tracing paths of choices that only God knew the outcomes to. He'd never see them again. Which, for some, was unfortunate. There were many beautiful women to introduce himself to. He resented his goal.

"I swear, if they keep me _entertained_ with stupid tales or antics, I'll hoof 'em and high tail it out of there," he snarled to himself, stuffing the remaining bit of fruit into his mouth.

He swallowed and looked down. Someone had grabbed his arm.

"Here we go!" Luffy let his arm retract like a pulled rubber band, its elastic energy pulling itself back to him, Sanji in tow. The poor chef was pulled unceremoniously through the busy crowd, slamming into several unsuspecting pedestrians before emerging from the collection of people, flustered and incredulous. He felt the hand leave his arm, sending him slamming into the ground. He sprawled out in front of Luffy, who was laughing and flexing his arm. "I'm glad it turned out to be you! I just guessed with one look at your hair! I hoped you still looked the same." Sanji glared upwards at him as he got to his feet. "Lucky I spotted you! Wouldn't that be funny if it wasn't you?"

"It's not funny _now_ when it _is_ me!" Sanji brushed his brown corduroy pants quickly, moving on to straightening his cream short-sleeved polo. "What's the idea, still as much of an idiot as you used to be?"

Luffy patted Sanji's shoulder heavily with his hand. "Still got your temper, Sanji?"

"Short and shot as ever, I suppose." He managed a smile. He liked being known for his hot-headedness, even if it wasn't necessarily a good trait.

"So you're here! I hoped you would come." Luffy smiled meakly. "Although you thought you'd be busy. You wrote that in your letter."

"I said 'I wasn't sure, so don't get your hopes up'. I have a stressful life now, a real job, one that gets kept in check by the hundreds of people depending on my perfect work as a celebrity chef." Another smile managed, this time, courtesy of his own complimenting. He had gotten into that habit. "So I have a changing schedule sometimes."

"Well you seem happy enough."

"Yeah." He was happy. Happy enough. Yeah, seemed happy enough.

"Seen anyone else?"

He hadn't. Sanji had been hoping to avoid the others and only meet up with Luffy briefly. Lady Luck had been on his side (what lady could resist, anyway?), allowing him to greet the captain first, without intrusions, even if it meant flying through people and landing painfully on the concrete. But he couldn't bother with Luffy anymore. If anyone saw them, they'd all be together and he wouldn't be able to get away.

Why'd he end up coming?

'_It's only a small lie..._'

"Uh, I actually have! I saw Usopp back in the hardware store, looking for goggles. I told him I'd go to find you, and then book us some restaurant reservations! Did you know Usopp works with inventions now? He said to meet him there, at the hardware store."

"Aw, I wish he'd come with you! We should all stick together, this place is mad! But sure, if you go get us a restaurant, we can get in quicker!" Luffy gave Sanji the 'thumbs up'. "You know the food better than anyone else, after all!"

Sanji smiled wryly and gave Luffy a nonchalant wave, hand raised. "Yep, see you guys in hardware!" Weak chuckle.

"Hey look!"

Wide eyes.

"It's Usopp!"

Slowed heartbeat.

"Hey, he's got Chopper, Zolo, and Nami with him!"

Stiff, continued wave.

"Usopp! Zolo! Oi, over here!"

Shit.

The remaining, yet to be found, crew had turned a corner and come into view. They were all smiling, happy. There was the captain. They pushed through the thick crowd, trying to stay in sight, trying to stay found. Even after so long, it seemed like a normal day, stocking up on supplies in a town, awaiting another trip on the high seas. It didn't seem like a reunion, only the meeting place for the day, after all shopping was done. They all waited to hear yet again "Raise the anchor! Coordinates are..."

But no one bothered with those except Nami.

Coordinates imperative to her navigation. Their destination. Their hope on the ocean.

Sanji stood dumbfounded and still. He didn't hear their greetings to Luffy, former captain. He was supposed to escape, this wasn't in the plan. Recipe ruined.

Luffy turned their attention to Sanji, former chef.

"And here's the final member to complete the crew again!"

Sanji gawked at them all, trying to recall names, attempting to silently mouth them to himself. He knew them all. But he lost himself again in a pair of dark chocolate eyes. Whose accompanying smile told him he wouldn't find himself again for quite some time.

"Hi, Sanji."

_Fuck_.


	9. CHAPTER 9: We Bleed

This chapter's really boring. Sorry. I guess I should have thought it out more…..I can't really remember how I decided the middle of the story to play out...

Any suggestions for anything that should happen? I might add some things in…if I'm impressed with any ideas.

Crying over spilled Dom Perignon,

---Ken

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**CHAPTER 9: WE BLEED**

"Ham spread on rye. A cold mug of grog, thanks. Oh, and some cherry turnovers."

Zolo tossed the laminated menu onto the patio table's glass surface, a relaxed smile traced across his face. He liked ordering last; he was always so indecisive about what to eat. What if he didn't enjoy it? He'd be angered. He had to enjoy his food, so he needed time to consider every available item. The secret he never told anyone. They couldn't think of him remotely similar to Sanji. He didn't love food in _that_ way…

"Sounds boring." Luffy pointed to himself. "Deluxe super burger with large fries? That's gonna be mine, no kidding."

"My tastes have changed…" Surely, they had. He hadn't been as apt to let just any food enter his system. He'd had many stomach problems, none he could remedy except to limit his food intake, in quantity and variety. He blamed it on his excessive overload of exercising, but deep down knew it was caused by the mental stress brought on by his differing situation. And he missed Sanji's meals. He couldn't cook to save his life, and constant restaurant meals not only drained his wallet, but drained his system in a way he'd rather not disclose.

Letting the outdoor breeze toss his hair from its former perfection, Sanji sat across from the swordsman, his tall back arched slightly as he leaned forward, composure thrown to the wind. He couldn't help it: he was miserable. He had no words to say, no thoughts to share, no experiences worth mentioning. What did these simpletons know? He couldn't get the feedback he loved to hear.

_"You've done marvelously for yourself!"_

_"Such talent!"_

_"You're amazing. How about showing me how amazing you really are tonight…?"_

He shook his head, thoughts quickly fleeting.

It took them an eternity to leave the busy center of town. Everyone hugged, smiled, greeted each other, chef at the sidelines. He felt misplaced, as if shoved into the reunion of some obscure acquaintances from long ago, forgotten in an emotional tide. But he _knew_ these people: why was it so awkward? He felt calm warmth from Nami's greeting, her dark chocolate eyes boring holes into his own icy orbs, begging him to return the kindness.

_Hi, Sanji._

_Hi, Sanji._

_Hi, Sanji._

The phrase repeated, her calm, young voice, over and over in his head. It was sweet; it prompted him to want to recall days of warm pies set on a window sill, tall grass, running through it to some tiny stream. The notion of not having notion, of not worrying about anything except the grass stains he'd get on his pants. And even that wasn't worth bothering over. He would have shared that pie with someone who he would want to enjoy it thoroughly. Present thoughts dictated he think of Nami. Those moist lips of hers, closing over a forkful of red cherries, buttery crust. She wouldn't have ever forgiven him for the fat content, but he'd have smiled deviously, making her delight in something so sinful and decadent.

He invented pasts so often, he sometimes forgot the true one.

"So, Sanji, what have you done with yourself?" He stared up, dazed.

"What? Who asked?" Usopp looked at him amused, waving a hand, the sun reflected off of his trademark goggles.

"I did. You've done something fantastic, haven't you?"

Had he? Was making love fantastic? Was making food fantastic? Fame, money, women? That was fantastic.

"I have my own restaurant, and it's quite famous." The surrounding Straw-Hats nodded in approval.

"More than I've done," Zolo acknowledged, sipping his water.

"You're willing to admit that?" Sanji asked, trying to sound surprised. He tried not to come across as overly pompous, but he didn't really expect Zolo to do anything more than gain some recognition as a swordsman. That dream faded though, with the crew's bond. "I'm sure you've…done more than nap, right?"

"Well, I'm sure you've done more than dedicate every waking moment into that restaurant of yours. Knocked up anyone yet?" A rush of expectancy coursed through the swordsman's veins. Confrontation: it was inevitable; a fight: imminent. He smiled, satisfied his comment made a sting, apparent by Sanji's attempt to keep the smug smile on his face.

"Still an ass."

"Still a _pain_ in the ass."

"Don't make me resort to methods of the past and have to knock you _both_ upside the head," Nami snapped venomously. Inside, she felt content.

'_Just like old times…_'

Chopper unfolded and refolded his napkin five times before speaking, making sure the tension died down.

"So…have you all remained healthy?"

"So typical of you, Chopper…" Sanji managed to laugh. "We're healthy enough to be here."

The reindeer shrugged. "Just curious. Lots of new diseases out there."

"Indeed."

"Including sexual ones." Zolo added, taking another swig from his glass. "You heard of STD's?" He avoided Sanij's death glance, watching instead the ice cubes in his glass as he absentmindedly swirled them around in the clear cup. Tired of allowing the swordsman to gain pleasure from his snide comments, the chef turned his head to Nami. She was trying to divert her attention to straightening her silverware, purposefully setting it just so, and then recognizing it was out of line.

"Miss Nami, what's been encompassing your life for all of these years?" He tried to ask as generally as possible, not wanting to seem interested in her. He couldn't continue trying to win her over. He didn't realize his smile stretched as wide and intrigued as it used to, looking her facial features over carefully. She was the same. Eyes, nose, cautious grin. He hadn't had the satisfaction of seeing her young, childish features in so long, and he wasn't sure how to handle himself.

"Oh, well, nothing noteworthy. Taking care of the tangerines, helping my sister sell them around the area harbors. Stuff like that…" She shrugged. "I guess I just settled permanently back in Coco Village."

"And your maps?" Usopp asked.

"I…haven't really had the time. To draw any, really." She decided she wouldn't draw another map as long as she wasn't sailing new territory. There was no crew, there was no desire. It was embarrassing, though, to share this information, so blaming it on her poor fruits was her way out. "Tangerines take up a lot of time, you know."

"Well, I've been building houses and repairing buildings in my village. Pretty fulfilling, actually."

"I live in one of Usopp's houses," Chopper responded happily. "Really nice."

"Yeah…"

Luffy, breaking out of a trance, felt strange as a random thought entered his head. Where did that come from, he wondered.

"Hey, Sanji, you got a girlfriend yet?"

The table suffered an uncomfortable instance of silence, not understood by any of them. It was a simple question, what was the issue? Sanji looked up at Luffy, face blank.

"I…where did that come from?"

"You know Luffy," Zolo laughed. "I'm surprised he didn't ask when you were making dinner." Nami giggled, warily glancing at Sanji. She was curious about the answer. Where _did_ Sanji's overly obsessive romantic behavior take him?

"Well, I've had quite…er…I've had many girlfriends. I suppose only a few made it."

"Made it?" Zolo asked.

"To…marriage I mean." He cleared his throat quickly after issuing the words. He felt low and dirty. He took on mistresses and wives as readily as taking orders. Why did he seem so comfortable in his habits when left alone? Now, when he was being questioned, he couldn't face himself. He winced as Zolo spit out a large gulp of water, only half making it down his throat.

"Swallow, Zolo…" Chopper mumbled, patting his back.

"_Marriage_?! You've been married. Married?! A _few_ made it? How many times have you tied the knot?" Zolo's face was red, partially with struggling with his water, partially furious. He always wondered at the chef's supposed chivalry, his respect towards women. He was positive that it wasn't the wife who filed for a divorce either. Sanji alluded to plural wives: he'd had his fun, then moved on.

Sanji sat his cup down, swallowing a gulp of water. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm currently married to my third wife, Sollera. But we're having some difficulties."

Nami tried to patiently listen, to intently sit still in her seat, the slick wood sticking to her bare thighs. Her heart was racing. What a jerk. What a bastard. He'd been married three times in three years. She immediately felt simultaneous jealousy and concern for those women. They probably weren't even given a fair chance at being a true wife. More like a temporary play thing, with the honorary title of "wife of famous chef, Sanji". What a euphemism. Even more still, _what_ a _bastard_. She averted her eyes as Sanji looked up at her, trying to read her thoughts, she could tell.

"Three wives, Sanji. That's a lot of dissatisfaction, I'd say," Nami found herself speaking before she had the chance to stop herself. She stared him down, dismissing the voice in her head telling her to stop.

Already uncomfortable with revealing his personal life, Sanji crossed his arms and legs, sitting back in his chair, nose scrunched. He didn't think he'd feel so sensitive about it (it was _his_ life, what did it matter to them?), but he was vulnerable, wounded. "I believe it's quite none of your business, Nami, nor is it of concern to the rest of you." He wasn't in the mood to give her a proper honorific; she'd get called by her name, and her name only. What a rotten little girl, he thought. "Don't meddle in my affairs."

A cheery waiter ambled to their table, carrying a large tray, giving Sanji a distraction from Nami's fuming face. Meals served, glasses refilled, the waiter stood aside the table, waiting for approval. Luffy consented with a thumbs up, already finished with half of a plate, just as a woman walked up behind his seat. He turned his head slightly, trying to figure out who it was.

"SANJI, honey! You did come! I've been trudging through this horrid zoo for hours!"

All necks cracked as they turned to view the group's visitor. A woman of medium height in a tight orange dress danced excitedly from one matching orange heel to the other as Sanji rose quickly from his seat, his pure white teeth smiling under his lips.

"Mercella, what a surprise…" He took the buxom girl into his arms and placed a long messy kiss to her lips, subtlety not being of concern. She pulled away and smiled.

"I knew you said you'd be here, but I didn't think I'd manage to find you," the girl said ecstatically. "What a mess this place is!"

"Yes, quite…" Zolo grumbled, chewing his sandwich thoughtfully. He glanced at Nami with raised eyebrows. "Name doesn't match with the wife he mentioned earlier." She frowned, her eyes growing wide after realizing what he had just said.

'_I shouldn't be surprised…you know how he is! You don't __care,__ it's just your instinct. He's an __idiot,__ of course he'd have a girlfriend_.'

Sanji, obviously happy at the twist of fate, pulled his newfound prize towards his chair. "Mercella, these are my former crew members. I believe I've told you about them once or twice before."

"I knew it was a small crew, darling, but it seems so unbelievable in person. Let's see, one, two, three, four…" She pointed a manicured finger at each member, counting as she went. Zolo sneered when she counted him in; Chopper made sure his eyes didn't meet with hers. He could sense her insincerity the moment she pranced to the table. "And you sailed?"

"Yep. Now, would you like to take a seat?"

"Forfeiting your chair?" Usopp asked.

"Yeah, talk about _affairs_…" Zolo emphasized. "This is a reunion, Mister Truthful Disclosure, not an orgy. And, who is this?"

"Would you _shut your mouth_?" the chef spat. "You're really starting to bother me. I'm not going to tolerate your comments anymore." He settled Mercella into his seat, standing next to it stiffly. "This is my girlfriend, Mercella. She originally was supposed to accompany me here for the whole trip but had other business to attend to. But she's here now, so…let's just eat and enjoy ourselves, okay? Here, honey, I ordered your favorite…"

Usopp shook his head. "This was supposed to be a reunion of the crew, not a time to introduce our love interests to the family," he whispered within earshot of Chopper and Luffy only. The former captain stuffed his mouth with food, pretending not to be phased. Zolo let his utensils fall heavily onto his plate, cleaned of all food contents. He looked at Nami from the corner of his eyes.

"What a joke this is…can you believe this? Funny, isn't it?"

She set her plate aside, anger silently killing her appetite. "Hardly."

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Wowzers! What a bunky chapter…..I guess R&R if you aren't dead from reading yet.


	10. CHAPTER 10: JUST LIKE NIGHTTIME

I REALLY HATE THE FORMAT OF I hate how the stories appear. Compared with how I organize my writing in MSWord Processor? THIS IS SO MESSY IT MAKES ME ILL.

Whoa! A bit of Zolo and Nami action in this chapter. It's not meant to be a side love conflict though, so don't take it that way. Zolo's a bit different….SO WE THINK! What DOES the silent swordsman think about in his down time? I think he's more sensitive than people think. But, like me, he tries to hide it…WHOOPS. Did I just SAY that…? D:

Anyway, there is no implied ZoloxSanji either. If you make any mention to that in a review, I'll be extremely angry and upset, because that's DEFINITELY not what I would promote. This is all in terms of friendship people.

Kinda off-topic/off-track chapter, but I kinda wanted to let Zolo and Nami have some private time to get some things straight.

Oh, and I know it says they ate lunch, and evening came….er….I was implying a late lunch anyway, and I also implied a time duration between lunch and evening in which the crew kinda looked around Roguetown somewhat. Or something. Held an orgy. NO JUST KIDDING. Oh gods….that's what happens this late at night. Random thoughts, not the orgies. xDDDDDDDD

Don't do orgies, kids.

Anyways, review please.

Handing out 'Free Continental Breakfast' tickets,

---Ken

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**CHAPTER 10: JUST LIKE NIGHTTIM****E**

Afternoon slipped quickly into evening. An unchanged former captain sauntered down a side walkway, hands stuffed into his pockets. Zolo walked impatiently behind him, Nami at his side, Usopp and Chopper trying to make light conversation near the end of the strange parade.

"So where'd that dumb-ass cook go?" Zolo muttered, attempting to keep the growl in his voice low. "Probably to get a room no doubt."

"Well, that _is_ what he is doing actually…" Nami said, noting the irony. "But it's not for that. His…friend wanted to make sure they had accommodations for the night." She felt ill at the statement.

"Yeah, I bet she did. Mindless promiscuous tramp. I'm surprised he hasn't fathered a hundred children."

"Zolo…"

"Don't give m e that tone, that---that concerned voice! You know he's a jerk. Why would you try to cover for him?"

"I'm---how could you say that, you idiot?! I'm not covering for him, Zolo!" She looked up at him with fierce eyes, Zolo returning the glare.

"Ayeeeeee, Usopp! Didn't you say there was a candy store around here?" Luffy whined.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?! We passed it clear back there!" Shaking h is head, he led the laughing captain and reindeer towards the candy shop, separating from the navigator and swordsman with a small wave. "Stay close!"

Nami nodded, her feet taking her into a bookstore. Zolo followed close behind.

"Look, Nami, maybe I shouldn't have said that."

"No, I can't say I disagree with it." She picked up Legends of Roguetown and flipped through it aimlessly, trying to find some sort of interesting chapter heading to catch her attention. The light air movement from the rustled pages brought a scent to her nose. New book. She hadn't bought a new book in ages. "Do you know how to read, Zolo?"

"Are you being serious?" He snorted, watching her replace the book to its shelf, smiling. "You're uneasy."

"What do you know about it? I'm completely fine. But I'm having doubts about coming now."

"Yeah, well, the unexpected sometimes happens. Of course, you have to admit, it was kinda hard seeing how…different everyone seemed, being together."

"Like we didn't know what to talk about."

"Yeah." They paused, looking to their feet, then to random book covers lining the neat shelves. "Like right then."

Nami laughed. "That was your fault."

"I don't like leading conversations, but I suppose I'll have to. You aren't the type to fill up ears with eager words."

"I like to keep to myself in ways."

"You're jealous."

Her mouth dropped slightly. "What are you talking about?"

"You're jealous of that woman, what was her name? Mercella. You're jealous of her."

"I am not! I can't believe you have the nerve!" She slapped his arm. "Why would I be jealous of that wench? Who wants to be that sleaze-ball's personal play thing? You saw how he treated her, talked to her. He came straight out and called her his _girlfriend_, for goodness' sake! And he's married! That's so awful! I feel so bad for his wife."

"No doubt she's the same way: I don't feel a thing for her. A smart woman doesn't fall for the types of schemes that bastard pulls. Which is why I'm curious as to why you like him." Zolo knew he was treading on a path filled with landmines. Something bestial twisted in his stomach, pleasurable yet disturbing, every time he made her angry. He liked her furious, fiery. He wanted her to pounce, cat-like as she was. He was surprised when he felt her hand, vise-like, around his wrist, pulling him from the store. It was approaching evening, the buildings no longer casting shadows on the cobblestone streets. Several street lamps lit up, adding an elegant charge to the atmosphere, despite the fact that he was being pulled through the crowd by an angry girl. The streets still had not died down: the night-life was only beginning.

Nami stopped in front of a large circle fountain, a light mist spraying against both of their faces.

"I don't _like_ him. I can't stand him! I can't believe you! You're just trying to make me mad. On purpose!"

"Hey, I merely stated some facts. No need to get bothered. If you think I'm wrong, say so." He crossed his arms.

"I already say so! You can't say those things! Do you know how he made me feel the day we all split apart? He didn't say _anything_ to me. No goodbye, not even a nod! A glance!" She threw her arms up animatedly while speaking, not realizing that her long suppressed feelings were escaping from their stronghold in her mind and heart. Zolo smiled.

"I didn't say anything to you either. We all just kind of left. I figured everyone wanted it that way. Simple, no hurt feelings." He shrugged. "But I guess yours _were_ hurt. I suppose you really didn't care that I left quickly, though? You make no mention to that."

"What do you know about feelings anyway, you big, stupid, apathetic, brute?!" She felt herself shoved into a hard surface. Glancing to her side, she realized quickly that her back was pressed against a brick wall, processing that it was surrounding the nearby park. She was caught off guard, and struggled to reconcile with herself that the wild, heated eyes she had started staring into were Zolo's. He would have towered over her had he not been bent down, his face level with hers. He gripped her arms painfully.

"When you've fought thousands, when you've stood analyzing a person for minutes that feel like _hours _before you go at each other's throats, you learn to read their thoughts, their minds, their feelings, even before they realize them themselves. I can tell you a man's going to hit left before he even configures a fighting strategy. When you kill a man, you see fear in his eyes, and it's transferred into you, right into your bones. You _feel_ it. I've died hundreds of times, Nami. And yet, I still know the feeling itself of taking a life into my own hands, destroying it, tossing it casually to the side almost." His face was close to hers, his hot breath tracing a path down her neck, into her shirt. Her chest heaved with startled breaths. "I may not have wanted to deal with your stupid and silly feelings at any point of my knowing you, whatever they were, but _do not _call me apathetic, or callous, or unsympathetic. I've been able to sense every fear, disappointment, elation you've ever had on that ship. And while I personally may not be able to understand it, I feel it, and it's always been very powerful." The strength of his fingers, digging into her arms, lessened. She winced at the pain of his strong grip leaving her skin. "I can't say I've always been able to understand my own feelings either. But…" He took her face into his large hands, trying to be delicate, and awkwardly pressed his mouth against hers. She tried to back away, unsure at what she should have been feeling, at what she should have expected. Hardly this, she thought, allowing him to lightly caress her lips. She couldn't judge what he was getting out of kissing her; he couldn't have felt anything close to love concerning her.

'…_could he?_'

Zolo stopped, standing up to full height. He wasn't in the least bit flustered or nervous.

"How are you so complacent?" Nami whispered, flexing her fingers absent-mindedly, trying to seem at ease.

"At the moment, you aren't trying to embarrass me, or make me feel threatened. Why shouldn't I be?"

Nami wondered at how to describe him, this green-haired man who had seen and felt far more than she ever bothered to learn about. She perceived him as she perceived an animal: lashing out in defense, not having second thoughts about being brutal, not being able to sympathize with her thoughts and feelings. For a moment, she thought maybe she understood him, although his words about killing made her feel edgy. But he still really possessed animal-like qualities: he was calm when not under stress, being threatened. He hated being embarrassed, and could judge when he was about to be made a fool, or when he was to be scolded. He sought out situations that weren't physically uncomfortable. And of course, she had no motive to ever put him in such situations. Threaten him, scold him, yes. But cause him emotional discomfort? No.

"Thanks."

"Thanks for what?"

"For teaching me something about you."

"It's you I should be thanking." He quickly ran his fingers through her hair, purposefully tossing the strands around to mess it up. "I had no outlet before, I mean, I had no way to share that about myself. I wouldn't have thought it upon first meeting you, but it wasn't uncomfortable to tell you any of that. And plus," he looked down the paved street, street lamps flooding the red stone with creamy yellow light, "to be honest, I missed you."

"I can tell. You're more eager to speak." She strangely felt compelled to reach for him, pull him close, hug him as hard as possible, and she acted on the impulse. He was very comforting under all of the layers of toned muscle and brute strength, more gentle than she thought he could be. It wasn't attraction, at least, not in the way she thought attraction should feel, but it was fulfilling to hold onto him and bury her face into his shoulder, sensing him doing the same to her as he bent over her, pressing her against his solid frame. He was sincere.

"I always heard a good kiss was like drinking fine wine after a long hot day in the desert," Zolo mused softly, just near her ear.

"Oh? And was it like that?"

"More like a glass of orange juice after a workout." Nami slapped his arm. "I never said that was bad."

"Why'd you kiss me?"

"I wanted to see what it felt like. And I think it's easier to sense what someone's feeling through physical interaction, not just words. Actions speak more to me than words." He let go of her finally, both regaining composure. "This whole splitting up thing. I still don't like it, but somehow, I think it played out to our benefit. I didn't see it before, but…you know how things go."

"Yeah. We're a bit blind aren't we. The crew as a whole I mean."

"Nami."

"Hmm?"

"I know you like him."

Nami sighed and turned her head away from him. The words stung; acceptation of her own feelings was never her forte.

"No, I can't say I do."

"Maybe not how he's acting, but that's how I know. You're concerned. It's a bit obvious."

"Well what about you? You spoke up and were pretty surprised at lunch! And you said a lot of mean things to him, even behind his back. What's your excuse then?"

"Concern."

Nami stared intently at Zolo, waiting for him to explain. He just smiled wryly.

"I always knew you didn't purely hate him."

"I can't purely hate anyone, to be truthful. Sounds awkward, even for me. It somehow empowers me to think I can deviate from that standard: people can't truly hate each other, 'hate is such a strong word'. All that stuff. But, once I examined how I felt about everything, and everyone…" He shrugged and laughed. "Well, thinking does a lot for our outlook on life, doesn't it?"

"It really does."

"But I'm positive that your feelings for him are far different from mine. Not to mention stronger. I never said I was highly fond of him…"

She laughed. "Understood. But still…"

"I don't need to hear it then. But, I think it's all in our best interests to talk this out. I want to confront him about it anyway." The fighter in him speaking.

"I suppose so. But, it is his life. Maybe we should let him go." She looked at her feet.

The swordsman gently pulled her chin up to look directly into her face. "That sounds like something I'd say. Hidden underneath our relativistic attitudes, you and I both know we'd feel guilty." She smiled weakly. "Let's go find the inn."

"Okay."

"Oh, and Nami?" She walked alongside him, waiting for him to continue. "I'm glad you came."

"Likewise."

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Oh bother. What a stinky chappie! Oh well. Review please.


	11. CHAPTER 11: Bittersweet

BAH! I'm getting major block for this story….I know where I want it to conclude, and I know what I want to happen, but it's not coming out well (I already have the ending written….I only need transitioning now)….so if you're bored with this chapter, I don't blame you! Plus, it's short. :P

Mace-ing the children nextdoor,

---Ken

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**CHAPTER 11: BITTERSWEET**

Luffy stood in the lobby of an opulent hotel, stone arches and pillars extending to the vast ceiling above him. Lit candelabras stood black and tall around the perimeter of the open room, the flames of the candles reflecting off of the many mirrored surfaces. Everything sparkled. All wood was polished dark cherry. It was hardly the most proper location for one notably antsy, bouncing on his heels and occasionally digging the toe of his sandal into the clean floor.

The lobby desk attendant was busy with a phone in one hand, pretending to listen intently to the one on the other end, his eyes on the captain standing suspiciously in the middle of the room, his sandals scuffing the floor marble impatiently. It would have to be polished again.

'_He's stood there for thirty minutes….'_

Zolo and Nami appeared in the doorway, the large oak doors held open by the swordsman, navigator following with two shopping bags in hand.

"There you are!" Luffy ran to his comrades, all smiles. "Usopp said he found you, but---"

"Yeah yeah, leave it to you guys to be hunting around, then spreading rumors," Zolo huffed, rolling his eyes. "I was only talking with Nami, and then she just had to have some clothes..." Luffy nodded in agreement, a smirk playing at his lips.

Nami grinned nervously. "Well, we have rooms then, right?"

"Courtesy of Sanji. His girlfriend wanted a place to stay, so he reserved four rooms for all of us. They have a room, you have one, Zolo and I can share, and Usopp and Chopper have the last."

"Let's see 'em then."

The group kept to themselves as Luffy led them to his room.

"I'll have to find Sanji for your key, Nami, but for now, this is what you can expect."

"Holy shit…" Zolo strode across the carpeted expanse and admired the bed that obviously hadn't been jumped into yet ("Oh yeah, the messy one is mine, heh heh…" Luffy said). He ran his fingers across the varnished, cherry wood bed post, his reflection showing up faint in the dark shining surface, as Nami searched her face for blemishes in an ornate wall mirror. Luffy laughed; he had already been acquainted with the room.

"Nice, eh?"

"That idiot probably spent a shitload of money to get these."

"No doubt it was Mercella's fancy…" Nami laughed. She threw herself onto the bed, smiling into the comforter.

"Hey, this is my room, you know. Maybe I wanted to be the first to break the softness." Zolo sat down heavily next to her.

"Oh shush. You don't care." Laying on her back, she swung her legs back and forth over the side of the bed. Zolo winced as uncomfortable thoughts entered his mind.

'_Ascetic behavior, Zolo, you need to indulge in more ascetic behavior…no more of this fun, touchy-feely stuff…_' He wouldn't have minded sharing a bed with her, but would never tell her that. He didn't even like telling himself. '_…I won't let that be me. This splitting up stuff has really gotten to me…'_

"So, Luffy, where's the _chef_?" Zolo asked gruffly, trying to stifle a distracting yawn.

"I think he went to go swimming with Mercella."

"The witch---er---dainty princess swims? You sure she won't melt?"

Nami giggled, grabbing onto Zolo's shoulder as she pulled herself up. "They won't be out all night. She doesn't seem like the type to engage in late night activities, even conversation."

"Make that _any_ sensible _intelligent_ conversation."

"And sense when did _you_ have any intelligent speech come from that mouth of yours?" Nami asked, smirking.

Rolling his eyes, Zolo laid back against his bed. Luffy looked confused.

"Why? Do you need them for something?"

Nami shook her head. "I just had something to talk about with Sanji, that's all. Nothing too big." She felt guilty as Luffy smiled and nodded, heading off into the bathroom ("There are jets in the bathtub!"). She should want the whole crew there to talk with their chef, not just her and Zolo. She didn't even want Zolo to be with her; she had a problem she wanted to address singularly. But leaving any of them out seemed wrong. They should all want to express concern over him. Or was that just…

'_I'm just concerned with him as a friend…nothing more…_'

A quick forceful knock rapped on the door. Zolo sat up and looked at Nami.

"You get it," she said quickly. "It's your room."

"Then why are you in it?" he snapped. "It's probably Usopp or Chopper, coming to bug me."

"You know, not always is someone out to irritate you, Zolo…" Nami hesitantly turned the handle and opened the door slowly, standing slightly behind the door, half-way out of sight.

"Did the Marimo come ba---Nami?" Sanji asked, taken aback. He stood outside the door in swim shorts and sandals, a towel draped about his shoulders. "What are you doing in here?"

"We didn't want to bother you for the keys yet, so we were all just waiting in here." She opened the door entirely and allowed him access, feeling unnerved. "I don't know where Usopp and Chopper are though."

Sanji looked at her sternly and nodded once. "Yeah, I was just at the pool. Mercella wanted a quick swim."

"Oh really?" She pretended to sound more interested in the location of action than in the consequences: his hair was still damp, disobedient strands poking out at odd angles as they dried out of form; where had he gotten those swim shorts? She tried not to stare him over, but found it painfully difficult. "It seems that way."

"Who is it?" Zolo called from around the corner of the room. "Better be room service."

"Don't you be ordering anything extra, you idiot," Sanji barked. "This room itself was expensive enough. Be thankful. I wouldn't have done this if Mercella didn't have good taste."

Zolo came into view. "Well, lookey here. Half naked chef in my room. Don't you belong in someone else's room that way? Or rather, _less_ that way?"

Nami rolled her eyes, Sanji sneering malevolently. "Aren't you incredibly funny. Downright _hilarious_, Zolo."

"Why thank you. Although, I find you more humorous, cook." He stood akimbo, smiling sarcastically.

"Nami, here's your room key. You have the entire space to yourself. Do you know where it is?" He opened his hand and revealed a slender key card, holding it out to her.

"Not exactly…"

"Come, I'll show you. Have a pleasant night, _Roronoa_."

"**Don't you call me that, you bastard**," Zolo seethed. "You have no reason to call me that."

Sanji smirked over his shoulder, closing the door after Nami stepped through. He made sure not to glance at her, only lead her down the hallway. He stopped in front of Room 672, the gold numbers nailed carefully above the door.

"I hope it's comfortable enough for you, Nami." He placed the key into her hand, noticing the vacant look in her eyes. "Are you alright alone?"

"Yes, that's fine. You know that."

"If you need anything else, just phone room service. I'll pay for your expenses." _Damn it_. There went the promise of 'no chivalry'. He'd told himself not to give in to her just because she was a female. He had…what did he have? Who did have? Mercella?

'_Damn it, Nami_….'

She stared up at him with dark, focused eyes, startling him. "I need to talk to you."

"Wha-what? About what?"

"I need to talk to you _about_ you."

"I'm hardly a subject worth wasting words over…"

"You didn't seem to be worthless at lunch." She glared at him, holding his gaze in hers effortlessly.

"I…this isn't important. And I left Mercella at the pool."

"Since when does that---that---since when do these things matter more than talking with your crew members?" she said, her voice rising as she clenched her fists at her sides. Sanji snarled, himself realizing that the guttural noise was a bit too much. Nami took a step back.

"You wanna know 'since _when_'? I'll tell you since---" He stopped, glancing behind him.

"Sanji, Mercella's causing a scene at the pool," Usopp moaned. "You'd better hurry before she clobbers Chopper. He was trying to make her satisfied with a casual massage but---"

"See?" Sanji yelled at Nami, flinging his arm behind him. "I have this to deal with now."

Nami didn't try to hide her surprise as she watched him stomp down the hall, barreling around the corner, out of sight, Usopp following. She sneered.

"What an ass…I shouldn't have tried to start anything…"

"Point is, you did, and now you need to follow through." Zolo leaned casually against the wall behind her. Nami swung around, startled.

"How'd you…? Where'd you---?"

"This place is a giant circle. So, what now?"

Nami shook her head incredulously, slowly, allowing her arms to fall to her sides. "What do you _mean_, 'what now'? Zolo, he's not going to listen to anything, to any_one_. He wouldn't even look me in the eyes. I had to force him to. Let him go and baby his stupid girlfriend, be miserable on his own, screw any woman he meets. I shouldn't be caring anyway. I don't care about how that stupid, low, idiot of a cook lives his life. Idiot…that's all he ever was, that's all he ever meant to me. " She shoved the key card into the door slot.

"If that's all you have to say, then you've changed for the worse too." Zolo grabbed her hand, squeezing the card from her fingers. "I won't have this reunion be a waste because you two have a rift between each other. This wasn't how it was supposed to be."

It took a few moments for Nami to realize she'd pulled her arm back and planted a full-force slap against Zolo's face. The impulse came from nowhere, the swordsman staring at her in disbelief as he slowly felt the warm spot on his cheek with his fingertips.

"You…I…"

"Don't blame this on me."

"I wasn't." He frowned.

"This is because Sanji's an asshole."

"Why do you think so? Just let him be, right? I guess I should maybe let you be then? Let you wallow in your internal sorrows?"

She let a couple of long harbored tears escape her eyes. She grimaced, trying to keep from crying.

"Don't say anything. I'm---I'm sorry." She bit her bottom lip, eyes closing painfully, her knuckles white as she clenched her fists. "I'll admit it. I'll just admit it! I'm afraid. I'm damn afraid of confronting him. I want to, b-b-but I'm trying to avoid it! I want to convince myself he's a lost cause! That there's no hope! _No hope, Zolo_! Why should I want to change him, force him to follow what I want him to?"

He caught her as she fell forward onto him, her small fists beating against his chest. He gazed at her thoughtfully, admiring her ability to hold back other tears. He knew there were plenty, but she didn't let anymore fall.

"Maybe you have changed. You're too passive."

"I'm not passive; I'm letting him continue in what he believes to be right." She pushed herself off of him, sighing heavily.

"But maybe, we don't always see things correctly because we've lost sight of what's important, or we've been abandoned---"

"_HE ABANDONED ME_. He left me without saying a word! NOTHING! He just leaves! And goes off and gets married, and has girlfriends, and lives the high life while leaving everything behind, as if it didn't happen! He never said goodbye…" She rubbed her forehead, becoming increasingly vexed. "…never said goodbye."

Zolo smiled. He hardly found love and attraction 'adorable', but it was painfully obvious to him that Nami was struggling with both, reminding him of a certain someone with three swords often attached to the hip.

"I just think he needs a strong, moral woman."

"When I find one, I'll tell them where to find the stupid idiot." She looked at the door to her room, sucking on her teeth.

"Well, I've found one, so I'll tell her for you." He rested his right hand on her shoulder. "He's at the pool, currently."

Nami laughed. "Strong and moral: I don't know if I fit the bill anymore."

"Maybe the bill doesn't fit you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He shrugged. She smiled, pushing his hand off her shoulder gently. "Zolo?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you walk with me to my boat, at the pier? I left my luggage in it."

"Need a swimsuit?"

"I need someone to tell me when to quit."

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Swimming pool time! 8D And Sanji fighting action comes next chapter. End is approaching. R&R.


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